Just another girl's story about running her first half marathon....

I found this in my drafts tonight- a post I started after running the Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon on May 19, 2013. This was worth finishing up and sharing!

thirteen point freaking one miles.

The week before the Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon was a strange one. I had injured my right quad/hip flexor group from training a bit too much/too fast and walked with a limp. My training ended at week ten out of twelve and even a 6 mile easy run was too difficult. Five days before the race, I decided my best course of action was to just rest and, if anything, do some light cross training. I figured I might as well let my leg heal the most it could. My goal had gone from a finish time of 2 hours and 30 minutes to "just finishing".

Sunday morning, I woke up at 5:15am. (actually, I was up with Mr. Ezra, AKA teething mess baby at 4:30 and then snoozed from 4:55-5:15). I slathered my nasty gluten free bagel in cream cheese and choked down half of it. I was too nervous to finish it, but I gave it my best. I sucked down my Zip Fizz (there may be more than one "P" in the "Zip", but its one of my pet peeves when things are intentionally misspelled,) and met two of my partners in crime to carpool to the race. We arrived with plenty of time to check our items and use the port-a-potties. I found my pace group and waited patiently for the start of the race.

I don't remember a lot about the race itself. I remember seeing my bestie's mother in law and her husband in the crowd at mile 3, and they enthusiastically cheered for me as I passed. That gave me a huge boost. Then I found the 2:30 pacers (experienced runners who carry a sign with a pace time on it to help the other runners). There was a very long and difficult hill around mile 7-8. This was probably the turning point for me, and one of the few things I remember. I remember wanting to stop and walk, and then approaching a curvy female runner running in tiny briefs with a clever phrase written across her rear. I laughed, and thanked her for the giggle. Suddenly I had a burst of energy, and I passed the 2:30 pace team. I never looked back. I experienced moments of being tired and wondering if I would ever finish. I would often pray through those moments and then all of a sudden be hit with a burst of energy to keep going. The only time I lost my breath was when I would become emotional about how proud I was for doing the race; and how thankful to God I was for healing my leg and taking away my pain enough for me to run that day (shout out to NSAIDS, too, Ibu). I think I experienced the elusive "runner's high", which I'm pretty sure is equal parts endorphins and delirium. Either way, it was amazing.

I finished the race in 2 hours 23 minutes- much better than my original goal! I crossed the finish line and immediately located a recovery beverage/snack. I also was handed a finisher's medal to hang around my neck; which made me cry a little bit. I DID it! I ran 13.1 miles and did not stop to walk once! (I did have to stop for a minute for them to let traffic pass at mile 12...but this was not a welcome break, because I was so close to being done and this only added a minute to my time!).

I found my girls after the race and we shared stories and took pictures together. Then we went out for lunch to replenish our tired soles (see what I did there?) When we completed our meal, I went to stand up, only to realize I couldn't walk. My injured tendon that had loosened up during the run had tightened back up with a vengeance. For 3-4 days, I walked around like a 96 year old man. I took a good month off from serious running and my leg healed up after 6 weeks of baby-ing it and cross training.

But never, not once, did I have a single regret about the whole thing. That experience will go down in history as the day I proved myself that I am better than I give myself credit for. I am capable of anything, no matter what it is.

I could write like I talk....non stop and forever.

I fantasize about blogging, often, and even will start to construct a post in my head.

But then I end up washing dishes. Or Ezra climbs up and starts hammering on the keyboard with his fists, and then screams in my face and pulls my hair when I remove him ( LOVE him. Seriously). Or I decide to sleep...or if we're being honest I find myself scrolling through Instagram and Facebook for a good half hour or so. Or, I decide that I need to watch a TV show, so I end up watching episodes of Dawson's Creek from 1998 on Amazon Prime instant streaming. I feel like that show is like taking a walk down memory lane into the late '90's adolescent dramatic/ romantic existence I never had...but I DID have those black Steve Madden slip on platforms with the stretchy band. Although mine were from Pay-less Shoe Source.

Sometimes, I REALLY don't know where the time goes. Being a semi-stay at home mom of two is a lot more work than I had ever thought it would be. In fact, today I wrote half a blog post in my head about my past preconceived notions about stay-at-home-moms and how their days went. Well my days look NOTHING like I thought they would. I would love to chat about it, but I must move on, because I began this post for a different reason.

I NEED to document my children's milestones! I don't have a baby book for Ezra (long story). His little life is just blossoming and changing so fast. I'm pretty sure I'm getting a baby book for Christmas, so I will just jot down everything here so that it doesn't escape my memory. Because by Christmas, he will probably be having his first solo in the Christmas pageant, or something.

Ezra James 19 months:

Words: Mama, Dada, Dank-oo (thank you), "yeah" (actually squeals, "yyyyyeaaaah!!!") "uh-oh", "dit-dee" (kitty). "Choo-choo"- sound when playing with his trains. Our little caveman is "a bit verbally delayed" according to the pediatrician, but I feel like that is common for boys. I'm not worried.

Teeth: OH, the teeth. Poor Ezra James has suffered teething symptoms since he was 4-5 months old with little break in between teeth. Right now his top right canine has just broken through, and now his top left is pushing on his gum and making it all erythemic. He is also cutting his bottom two 1 year molars. He pushed his top two molars at 17-18 months.

Stats: 100th percentile for height ( almost 3ft at his 18 month visit) and around 29 lbs. He is a long, lean mass of MUSCLE. He walks around like a little football player; chest puffed out, arms swinging.
 *my cat is snoring and its soooo annoying*
Personality: Sensitive. Caring. Today, I strapped him into his car seat and then bent down to grab something under his feet and his reached out and rubbed my back. He is SO loving and touch and cuddling seems to be his "love language". When he wakes up, he likes to be held/cuddled for a few minutes. He is very shy, but also flirty. Despite his shyness, he LOVES to wave to cars. He will stop whatever he is doing and wave to a car if he hears one. He is very determined and curious, especially with electronics, things with wheels, sports, and daddy's guitar.

Abilities: people always comment on how incredibly agile and athletic Ezra is. He likes to jump off of things, and pretty much always sticks the landing. He runs VERY fast. He is very into sports; especially basketball.

What else can I say about Ezra? I am enamored with that boy. I am amazed on a daily basis just how much love I have for him, despite how much of a little shit he can be. Please excuse my language...but there is no substitute when describing him. I actually mouth the phrase, "You are such a little shit" several times a day because of the things he does. And this should be noted, because I really don't swear, hardly ever. So an S-bomb means business. He does things like kick me in the chin when I change his diaper. Then when I get stern and tell him to stop, he kicks me in the jaw, again, and laughs. He pooped so much it smeared out of his diaper and he rubbed it all over the couch when I thought he was playing happily with Mr, Potato Head. And he takes several bites of an apple slice, spits it out on the table, and then throws some of the half chewed apple on the floor. The remaining half chewed apple? He smeared it all over the table and then proceeded to try to lick it off the surface. Each of theses occurences happened today; so you can see why I have so much laundry and cleaning to do ;)
But this is one special little boy. He is going to be a big, tall, handsome sweet heart when he grows up. He will make one special lady very, very happy one day :)

Before I wrap up, I need to say a few things about sweet Madelyn, who turned four years old last week!
- She loves Pre-school. When I dropped her off one day, one of the little boys in her class exclaimed, "Madelyn's here! Hey guys, Madelyn's here!". My mommy heart died and went to heaven. She has just as many "boy" friends as she does "girl" friends. She doesn't seem to prefer a gender when it comes to friendships yet, and I love that.
- She has made it well known that she prefers to be called "Madelyn" rather than "Maddy"
-Still as stubborn as a mule
-And smart as a...smart. So smart.
- She can sweet talk anyone into pushing her on the swing- her favorite activity.
-She loves Thomas the Train (so does Ezra...so them playing with the wooden train set results in many screams, tears, bites, and pulled hairs).
-Every night her and I lay in her tiny little bed and talk. We talk about Thomas, we talk about school...it's our special time and I love it.

Okay..so now I'm tired. It really is my goal to write once a week...and someday I really hope to do that! Last night I actually decided to forgo Dawson's Creek and read a book before bed...so maybe I can cut the nasty "downtime" habit altogether and start documenting this crazy life of mine. If you are out this and you read, give me a little nudge! :)